Pale Kings and Princes

“I’m only doing sixty-eight,” Susan said.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m worried about when you get out of second.”

I could see her smile as she eased up on the gas and brought the car down to the speed limit. I put my head back against the front seat headrest.

“Your place or mine,” she said.

“Mine,” I said.

“Tired?” Susan said.

“And hungry and in the throes of caffeine withdrawal, and sexually unrequited for six days,” I said.

“There are remedies to all those problems,” Susan said. “Trust me, I have a Ph.D.”

“From Harvard too,” I said.

“Veritas,” Susan said.

I closed my eyes and didn’t exactly sleep while we drove down Route 1 and over the Mystic Bridge. But I didn’t exactly not sleep either and when we pulled up and parked in my parking space in the alley in back of my place on Marlborough Street, Susan had to say, “We’re here.”

I fumbled the keys out and we went in the front door and up to the second floor and I unlocked the door to my apartment and we went in. I stopped in the living room and took off my jacket. Susan went into the bedroom. I dropped my jacket on the couch and followed her. She had turned the bed back. I took my gun off of my hip and put it on the bureau. Then I undressed and got into bed.

“Aren’t you going to read me a story,” I said.

“Not tonight,” Susan said. “You need to sleep. But God knows what may happen in the morning.”

20

I slept until ten-thirty the next morning, and when I woke up I could smell coffee. I rolled over. I could smell Susan’s perfume on the pillow next to mine but I had no memory of her coming to bed. I sat up. The clothes I had dropped on the floor last night were gone. I got out of bed and stretched and looked out the window. The sun was bright on the thin dusting of snow that had accumulated on Marlborough Street. I went out into the living room.

Susan looked up from behind the counter that separated the kitchen.

“My God, you shameless animal,” she said. “You’re naked.”

“I’m on my way to the shower,” I said. “You just happen to be in the right place at the right time.”

“If you’re not too tired you might shave as well,” Susan said. She was mixing something but I couldn’t see what.

“I’ll try,” I said, and went into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later I was reeking of cleanliness, smooth-shaven, and smelling of Clubman cologne. I put a towel around my waist and came out of the bathroom.

“Are you squeaky clean?” Susan said.

“Yes.”

“Smooth-shaven?”

“Yes.”

“Teeth brushed?”

“Un huh.”

“Good,” Susan said. “Then I think we should make love and then have breakfast.”

“Excellent plan,” I said. “But what about your patients?”

“It’s Sunday,” Susan said. “I have no patients.”

“Sunday?”

Susan nodded. She was wearing a loose heavy white sweater over her jeans. There were two gold chains around her neck. She had on gold earrings in the shape of triangles, and a gold bracelet and a small gold chain and a gold watch on her left wrist and a very large thick white bracelet on her right.

“Complacencies of the peignoir,” I said, “and late coffee and oranges in a sunny chair.”

“Eliot?” Susan said.

“Stevens,” I said, and put my arms around her. “And the green freedom of a cockatoo upon a rug.”

“I never heard it called that,” Susan murmured, and kissed me and leaned away and jerked her head toward the bedroom and smiled the smile she had that would launch a thousand ships.

It was almost noon when we sat down for breakfast. I was wearing my maroon bathrobe with the satin lapels and Susan had on a yellow silk number with maroon trim that she kept at my place. Susan had made cornbread, and we ate it with honey and drank black coffee, at the counter. The cornbread was still warm.

I made a toasting gesture at her, with my coffee cup.

“Mingled to dissipate the holy hush of ancient sacrifice,” I said.

“Are you going to quote all of it?” Susan said.

“I don’t know all of it,” I said.

Susan smiled. “Small mercies,” she said. “What are you going to do with the three hundred kilos of cocaine in the trunk of my rental car?”

“I think we’ll leave it there for now,” I said. “We’ll drive up to Maine and get your car and I’ll take the Mustang and drive on back to Wheaton.”

“And do what,” Susan said.

“I don’t know, exactly. But I figure it’s a bargaining chip that I didn’t have before. And so is the kid.”

“The chief’s son?”

“Un huh, at worst I can squeeze him. I’ve got him for smuggling coke.”

“Have you though?” Susan said. “All he has to do is deny everything. The truck’s in Peabody and you’ve got the coke.”

“And I know that he got it at Penobscot Seafood in Belfast and I know what the guy looks like that he transacted with. If I have to I can shake it loose from that end.”

“Well, why don’t you?”

“Because I was hired to find out who killed Valdez, not to break up coke smuggling. Maybe I can do both, and maybe to do one I’ll have to do the other. But Wheaton is where the killing took place and Wheaton is where I should be working if I can.”

Susan leaned forward and kissed me gently on the lips.